The Unheard Screams
by TiannaMVA
Summary: INCOMPLETE! When Harry does the unspeakable, his family realizes there was more than just being 'The Boy-Who-Lived's younger twin brother'. Twin!Harry, Angst, Drama, slight Romance. Depressed!Ignored!Harry.
1. First Sound

I was three when I realized, grasped, why my family never said "I love you" to me anymore before bed. I was no longer important: my brother Ryan, however, was.

He was something called the Boy-Who-Lived, while I was just the younger brother. The nuisance that was crying in hunger as the other twin gorged on their love, their understanding, their _pity_. And I realized I didn't want that. I wanted something all mine, just mine, and someone I could always count on when everything got a little too big around my brother's head.

All through school I was ignored beyond sharing the last name of the infamous _Potter_. Red hair, hazel eyes, wide, mischievous grin over his face. He was so different from me that I sometimes wondered how I was related to him. Most of the time, I wondered why he was so much more important that someone who was related to him, no matter how unbelievable it was to them, when they could get attacked too. I mean, my Godfather, Sirius Black, had animagus training, as well as my father, and were both teaching Ryan how to do it.

My mother, the one who's superior charm casting was able to 'save' Ryan, forgetting I was in the room as well, was teaching him some of the more serious charms that could save his life in battle. My uncle, Remus Lupin, was teaching him meditation as well as Occlumency to protect his mind.

And here I was, left defenseless with only six years of Magical Education under my belt and a Muggle handgun loaded in my room, charmed invisible and visible to only me and hanging next to the door.

And I was still yearning for someone that I could call mine in a proud voice to anyone who asked.

And I thought I had found that in Ginny.

I've had a crush on her for a while before I asked her out. Amazingly enough, she agreed, and I was on cloud nine for a whole month, just happy I wasn't invisible. I've heard many stories of how the boy is always invisible to his lady love. And I was glad I wasn't, not a bit.

Sometimes, I wondered why I didn't notice anything at first. She had an excuse sometimes to go back on out plans, something about her brothers doing something stupid and needing her help, and her mother's and father's. I believed her, not willing to think that there was something going on behind my back.

I trusted her you know.

And my heart more than just broke the day I found her making out with my twin, _the one who looked nothing like me_, outside in the front yard, in front of everybody who finally said, "It's about time you got your girl, young man! We've been waiting for this moment!"

They clapped him on the back, shouting encouragement as my heart disappeared from my chest and left a hollow, pushing out everything that I had bottled up.

I slipped upstairs, unnoticed by anyone and everyone. Figures the girl I loved would leave me for fame and riches with my older twin brother. I'm almost surprised it didn't happen sooner. Almost.

There, hanging on a hook next to a Quidditch poster of Puddlemere United, was the gun. Across the room was a desk was sheaths of paper, quills with ink charmed to follow the emotions of the writer. I figured, _it's probably overkill, but who cares? Certainly not anyone in my life, that's for sure._

The black ink turned red with a tint of orange as I wrote, anger and bitterness in the colour.

_Dear Potters:_

_Finally got what you wanted, huh, **FAMILY**? Forget there was another child in the home, wondering why no one talked to him, why no one could say so much as hello as he walked into the room. He's nothing but the **BROTHER** of the Boy-Who-Lived! He's not important!_

_Forget the fact that the Potter family has another son, a child who should have been as equally important to at least his family if not non existent friends!_

_I can still remember that night, you know. Through my nightmares. Dad was yelling, "Run, Lily! Take Ryan and run!" I remember going after Mom since I didn't know what was going on. Mom screaming at the top of her lungs "Don't hurt my baby boy!", watching as that **RAT BASTARD PETTIGREW** smirked from the doorway as his 'Master' raised his wands to kill her in the nursery. It was almost like I wasn't there, not really. I remember Voldemort start uttering the killing curse, which I just knew was bad, the way Mom was crying about letting them go, that he could take her instead and do whatever he wanted._

_I remember throwing my favorite stuffed doll, Paddy, the big black dog I had found in some of Ryan's old toys at his face and watching as he lost control of the spell and it randomly fired in the room, bouncing off of one of the platinum lamps that Remus had insisted on getting for the room since they were charmed childproof by Alice. I remember that light hitting **ME** straight between the eyes, Mom looking at Ryan, not even realizing her younger baby getting '**KILLED**' just next to her. I remember the roof collapsing on top of us, most of the debris falling closer to you guys, since I was facing your direction when I was hit with it. Did no one ever notice the large, unhealing, still bleeding red cut above my eye?_

_I remember blacking out, and waking up in the same spot. I almost believed you had **FORGOTTEN** me there, in lieu of what was happening. I thought, _maybe they're hurt too, and can't get me. They would never forget **me**_. So I began making my way out of a little hole I barely fit through to see if I could find you guys._

_Imagine my surprise when I find you all crying over Ryan's unconscious body next to the doorway in the still-intact hall. He had an already healed cut on his wrist, something that looked a lot like a circle. "He has survived the killing curse, Lily. It is truly a miracle he had survived. I believe it was your love that saved him," Dumbledore had said in some sad voice, like he believed his words as he spoke. I thought I could detect something in his voice though, something hard._

_I remember thinking I was special then, since I understood the word killing at least. Maybe they had noticed me? Finally? Then I remembered thinking, _Momma had never loved me. Only Ryan_. Do you know how **HEARTBREAKING** it is for a child to think that? Do you know how. **HARD.** it is, thinking my parents never noticed me, not since I was born? Was I a surprise baby? Was I really invisible? Was I just some lost soul? Was I not even worth my parent's time, unlike my brother?_

_Those thoughts continued all the way through school. I'll never even get a diploma from school. It's surprising I even got an invitation to school in the first place. The envelope just sat there on the table while you all cried happy tears over Ryan._

The ink had begun turning green a while ago, the colour of suicide. The colour of the curse that failed to kill me almost seventeen years ago.

_And I think that's when I finally began resenting Ryan. Why did he get parents? Why not me? Why did he get all the attention, even from my godfather? Why was I invisible to the people who were supposed to mean the most to me?_

The ink turned even darker green while I continued writing.

_Then, I found Ginerva Weasley, the first person to actually _realize_ I was there. I knew she liked to be called Ginny, so I called her that. I knew she loved the straight laced proposal of ideas. So I just upped and asked her a few months ago._

_I even wrote her a song on the guitar I had gotten fixed when Ryan broke three of the strings. It was my first one._

_Then today, I come outside for some fresh air to see her **MAKING OUT** with my **INFAMOUS TWIN BROTHER**. Whatever happened to twins being to well connected? I don't think I ever had a twin, not one that actually knew me._

The ink abruptly turned black, but I my vision was so clouded with unshed tears that everything blurred and a few dropped onto the paper, smearing the ink.

_So that's why I'm writing this. I can't take it anymore._

_I don't have a family? Fine, I can live with that. I never had one to begin with._

_I don't have an actual sibling? Fine, never had that either._

_I don't have a girlfriend, not one that _sees me?_ I can't live with that, not after I told her the day before I had loved her, not to lose her to my brother. To a complete stranger._

_Good bye then. I hope we never meet again. Hope to see you in hell._

_Signed,_

_Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Was-Forgotten._

I pulled out the lyrics I had written and put them under the slightly tear stained parchment with light green ink. It was nearly green the entire parchment, save for the first few sentences. I wonder if they would ever find my body here in this room.

I lifted the gun. It was a sleek, well-oiled black handgun, one with the piston cocked. It looked well cared for, which it was.

I admired it in morbid curiosity for a moment before lifting it to just under my throat. I grinned slightly, thinking of ending all the pain. I wasn't kidding when I said 'See you in Hell' in my letter.

I pulled the trigger before everything went black.

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**What do you guys think? Read and Review!**


	2. First Reaction

**Ooh, I am aware that seemed a little speeded up in the first chapter. Oh well. That just makes it more angsty. And I know there is probably a bunch of plot holes. I most likely won't be fixing them. Enjoy! **

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Lily screamed when she heard the gunshot from the direction of the house. She recognized that sound from when she was younger. She never forgot it. And she knew what it meant: Death. Possibly Death Eaters. "Run!" she heard vaguely. It sounded so far away, like they were yelling in a raging wind. "Scatter!"

She saw Ryan pull Ginny with him as they headed for the house. "No, Ryan!" she called desperately. "Don't go that way! Get back here! _No!"_

Lily tore off after him, determined to drag him back to his father and keep the little rascal out of trouble. Who knew who that could have been?

Lily heard a scream from upstairs and followed it, the sound ringing in her ears at it got louder and echoed down the hallway. She could hear something behind her, but didn't dare look back for fear of seeing something she didn't want to see, like Peter hanging dead at his house after committing suicide.

She ran for the open door down the hall, well away from the other occupied rooms. The door opened outward, unlike the other doors in the house. It was covered in both bright and dark red blood, smeared all over it like someone decided to try and write on it before noticing what they were doing. It was sickening to look at.

_"Ryan!"_

"Oh dear God!"

There was a thud on the wooden floor in the room while Lily ran in, expecting her son dead at her feet, killed from an Avada Kedavra, even if she didn't hear the words spoken. She could feel her life's blood thunder under her skin.

On the floor was someone who looked like James, his eyes closed, tear tracks down his cheeks, hair tousled and blood fanning out behind him in an arched spray of red. The only disturbing thing was a tinge of pain and a small smile playing on his lips. The clothes he was wearing were different. Was he polyjuiced?

Lily's wand was out quickly, brandished while her eyes looked all around, looking to find someone, anyone in the room. James was in the room almost immediately after Lily. He looked around, wondering what was happening. Seeing something of a double of the floor almost made him drop his wand as he looked at the body with jaw dropped shock.

Lily saw Ginny, passed out on the floor, probably from either shock or horror. Maybe she got sick from the sight.

Ryan had inched closer to the wall, hands splayed against it, looking the part of a frightened child, watching a bar fight with knives at midnight. "Mum… Dad? Oh dear God…"

James made a choked sound from the side of the room. Lily had already lowered her wand just to jerk it back up again at the noise. She spun around, eyes wild as they searched for a threat. She only saw a piece of parchment in colour changing ink in her husband's hands. And it was green.

The boy on the floor did this on purpose.

"_James?_" Lily whispered. "Do we know him? Is he just an unknown relative?"

James made a whimpering kind of sound, something you would expect from a kicked puppy before it keeled over and died painfully.

"It says… it says he's my _son!_" James said, shocked. His son? When did he get another? "And…" James choked, crumpling to the floor.

Lily snatched the parchment, wondering what made her husband so… shocked.

She immediately wished she hadn't.

The statements in the parchment terrified her, made her wonder if she lost sight of who she was, why she did the things she apparently did.

"_He's nothing but the **BROTHER** of the Boy-Who-Lived! He's not important!"_

_"I can still remember that night, you know. Through my nightmares." _

_"I remember that light hitting **ME** straight between the eyes, Mom looking at Ryan, not even realizing her younger baby getting '**KILLED'** just next to her."_

"Momma had never loved me. Only Ryan."

_"Was I not even worth my parent's time, unlike my brother?"_

_"Why was I invisible to the people who were supposed to mean the most to me?"_

**Momma never loved me. Only Ryan,** echoed in Lily's head. Was she that callous? Towards her own flesh and blood? Was she becoming like Petunia?

_No, worse than Tuney_, her mind yelled. _She never ignored her own son!_

She continued reading, not even trying to imagine how much this young man had gone through. Ignored by his own family! His own godfather!

The writing had been a steady, solid dark green nearly the entire page. It scared her, how this man couldn't take it anymore.

"_Good bye then. I hope we never meet again. Hope to see you in hell."_

She sincerely hoped she ended up there for what she had done.

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**I listened to four or five different songs during this one's writing. Almost all of those were happy, bouncy type songs. Makes you wonder where my sense of (very slight) gore comes from, eh?**


	3. Shades of Gray

I woke up to a slate shade of gray. Everything looked the same where I was at. Just the same, dull gray colour.

"You killed yourself," a voice said from my right. My head jerked up, some of the longer black bangs falling over my forehead. "Though the whole girlfriend angle makes you seem pathetic," it continued.

I glared. "Who the hell are you to tell me if I'm pathetic?"

"I'm Death. I tell everyone to call me Drew, though. 'Bout time you got here, too. Cheating me out of a soul is a very bad thing to do. Then again, I doubt you did it on purpose. Did you ever see the black shadow in the corner of the room under all the rubble? If the killing curse didn't kill you, then surely the rubble should have." Drew had black hair that was shoulder length, and black eyes – literally. You couldn't see the pupil if you wanted to.

I shook my head. I never saw a shadow under the rubble. Then again, I was wondering what my family was going on about and if they were okay. Not exactly paying attention to my surroundings. "Why exactly are you telling me this?"

"I have a deal for you."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "What kind of deal?"

"Well, you become a Reaper, then when you collect a specific number of souls, I send you into the afterlife. If you find love, I'll grant you another life."

"I still don't see the deal in there," I said blandly.

"I have less work to do."

"Ah." I paused. "How many souls do you want me to 'reap'?" You could hear the quotation marks.

"Two hundred. If you get good, I might let you get an extension."

"When do I start, and how do I reap anyone?"

"Well, I'll give you the crash course. Come along, Harry."

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**I've been reading 'Supernatural/Harry Potter' crossovers, and am using the whole 'Reaper' thing from them. Thought I could help it along, since I had no actually plot line idea for this one.**


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